let me unveil you
by sunrises6
Summary: They started as perfections and ended up being just Shisui and Sakura. This wasn't a regression. Non-mass. Two-shot.
1. Shisui asked

**Disclaimer:** Naruto is not mine.

 **Warning:** None, really. I took liberty with certain things but I believe they're within reason. I don't have a beta reader and English is also not my first language so I hope my writing isn't too off.

* * *

If there was one thing worth mentioning about Shisui, aside from his terrifying prowess, it would be how he strayed from a typical Uchiha.

Sandaime-sama occasionally commented out of the blue, with a fond and nostalgic smile on his wrinkled face, "You remind me of Kagami." Yondaime-sama's bright blue eyes crinkled when he patted his shoulder, "Your love for the village is really something." The quiet Itachi often trailed after him, listening to every word he said as if they were sacred; so unlike when he's with their clansmen.

Shisui always smiled back at them – his ever pleasant smile – and left _you might as well say it out loud that I'm not like any other Uchiha_ unspoken.

("We are different." his father had said once upon a time.

And like any good child, Shisui listened.)

He knew whatever they did or didn't say was meant as a compliment but Shisui was humble and realistic and so he knew that any man living in this world couldn't completely reject his roots.

There was still an Uchiha in Shisui.

You were an Uchiha when you harbored a love that was much like a raging fire, threatening to burn yourself and everything else.

(Shisui thought of all the lives he willingly took – some were guilty, some were not, he had lost count years ago – in the name of Konoha.)

And you were one too if a violent thrill rushed through your veins when you witnessed a display of power.

Just like how Shisui was feeling right now.

In the midst of broken boulders and deep cracks running like spider web on the earth, Haruno Sakura was standing atop a pile of bodies with blood splattering across her hardened face and the moon casting silver light on her lithe figure. All that destruction was created with her own bare hands – not some fancy jutsu.

That, Shisui thought, was power in its purest form.

Haruno Sakura had always been something of a blur in his mind. Just a little girl with bubblegum pink hair, no special ability and bloodline to note of, following Sasuke around like a lost puppy. The only thing memorable about her, he vaguely remembered, was that she seemed to fidget whenever in his presence and her 'Uchiha-san' was often mumbled – it's not a common reaction he got from people, children especially. But _this_ …

Shisui's pupils dilated and his sharingan sparked to life.

 _This is perfection._

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.

.

He didn't see Haruno-san much aside from the occasional missions where she served as a substitute for his team, considering their different lines of work. Whenever he had a brief encounter with her, though, he liked what he saw.

She was not hard to find. It's common knowledge that if you wanted to meet her, the hospital was where you should go first. In fact, all the times he saw her were at the hospital. He was not one to land himself often on places of medical nature; mostly he went there since it's a required procedure after a mission or it's time for his regular check-ups. He never missed those sessions.

(His mother told him time and again, "Taking good care of yourself is part of being a good shinobi."

Shisui always nodded.)

Haruno-san usually wasn't the doctor assigned to him. She was the third in command at the hospital as well as a top medic; as such, she was mostly in charge of managing or cases that needed doctors of her caliber. Their meetings were always passing nods of acknowledgment and she would continue on her way – her steps never slowed – leaving him to watch her from afar.

She carried herself with an air of certainty and confidence that was almost tangible. There was a purpose in her strides, determination in the way her head held high, composure in her straight back. She moved on the crowded hall with swiftness, giving directions along the way – all the while not even a hair out of place.

Like he had said – perfection.

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.

.

For all the fame he achieved from possessing a formidable speed, sometimes Shisui was too late.

He looked at the mangled body of his fallen subordinate – legs were bent at awkward angles, bones thrust through his arms, and Konoha hitai-ate came out from the bloody mess of what once had been his head. The first thing Shisui did after coming to the scene, however, was not feeling sad or sympathy or even disgusted at the gruesome act committed against his comrade. No, the first thing Shisui did was activating his bloodline limit to check if _this_ – he could barely acknowledge it used to be a human – was truly what remained of his comrade and not some complicated fraud. After all, faking death was a popular choice among the enemy _and_ seemingly loyal shinobi who wanted to defect. One could never be too careful.

Shisui wouldn't say he was cold. He always tried his best to keep his teammates alive and in one piece and avoided unnecessary sacrifices – that's the duty of a captain. But when you made killing a living, casualty was unavoidable; some days you came too late, some days they made a fatal mistake, some days life was simply unfair. The cycle kept repeating until one day all your heart was capable of was the feeling of 'been there, done that' and the face of your fallen comrade melt into the next one and that biting pain when you first experienced loss became a dull ache from a distant past.

Because, to be a shinobi was to endure.

("Rule number twenty-five," his father chided. "Always remember rule number twenty-five, my son.")

Crimson eyes swirled back to charcoal and they slid to the hunched form of Haruno Sakura.

If he had to say, the closest thing to an emotion inside him right now would be disappointment.

She was kneeling before their unlucky teammate with her back facing him so he couldn't see her expression, but the hand that was holding onto the hand of the dead was shaking – however faint. Her shoulders slumped. Her head hung low. For someone like her, who was both a killer and a healer, she must have seen death countless times – in _and_ out of battles. Yet here she was, clearly displaying emotions – a weakness, a direct disobedience to the rules – and acting like some genin that suffered loss for the first time. Where was the exemplar kunoichi he had seen in her?

Disappointment indeed.

Shisui took slow steps towards Haruno-san then he crouched down behind her, his hand reached out to touch her shoulder, to wake her from the stupor she was in, to reprimand her that this was no way how a shinobi should behave, to tell her…

 _Have her shoulders always been this small?_

His hand covered her thin shoulder entirely and he dimly thought if he squeezed harder it would break. Being this close to her made him realize that even though he was kneeling, he was still a good head taller than her.

She seemed so large when you looked at her from a distance and so small when you came close to her.

The thought startled him – just like when one woke up from an illusion.

Any word that he intended to say died on his lips.

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.

.

"Who would you recommend for your team?" Yondaime-sama asked while he was reading the report.

Shisui mulled over his question.

His team's missions had gotten harder lately – not that they weren't hard before – which resulted in a few regular members being hospitalized for months. That's the reason why Haruno Sakura was chosen as a temporary in several assignments; to reduce the level of casualty. Now with one less member and some were still recovering, a permanent addition or at least one that would last for a period of time was necessary.

His top choice would be Itachi but that boy had his own team to look after – among other things. There were other shinobi whom he had heard of their potential yet never had the chance to work with or personally knew them to judge if they were suitable for his team. He didn't think he wanted to deal with the headache that was Sasuke and Naruto-kun; Hatake-san handled them much better than anyone in the village.

Then there was Haruno Sakura.

She was strong, efficient, possessed skills that were of benefit to multiple purposes, and had a good head on her shoulders.

(Small shoulders that even now plagued his mind. He didn't know why.)

Haruno-san was also a dutiful person. Along with him, she was the first to arrive and the last to leave at every meeting. She generally abided by shinobi codes, too.

 _Generally._

(She spread a scroll over the body and with a few hand seals, their fallen comrade was safely secured inside it. Her quick and fluid motion – it took no more than four seconds – told him she must have done this ritual many a time.

Yet she still found it in her heart to mourn for the dead.

Normally, shinobi would dispose of their teammates' corpses right at the scene. Only individuals of great importance – in terms of power or social status – were brought back for preservation and proper burial. This teammate of theirs didn't fall into the latter category.

As if sensing his inquiry, Haruno-san – with her back still facing him – murmured.

"We were comrades going to a battle together so we will go home together, dead or alive.")

Haruno Sakura was powerful in her own right but she was too sentimental and that automatically failed her as a shinobi. A true shinobi captain would not choose her.

(Every afternoon, when their daily training session had ended, Shisui sat with his father on the porch that looked out to their family's garden. This would be the time his father delivered lectures on how to keep his emotions in check.

"Feelings are your worst enemy," his father always reminded him.

Sometimes, while his father's stern voice was still going steadily, Shisui would recognize a little bluebird that seemed to fancy their garden. It came here often, he recalled, making it Shisui's companion in these afternoons. The corners of his lips would twitch up a fraction every time the bird cocked its head and looked at him curiously with its black beady eyes.

When his father looked the other way, Shisui's gaze would chase after the bird long after it disappeared into the vast blue sky.)

Yondaime-sama was waiting patiently for his answer. Shisui looked up at him.

"Haruno. I want Haruno Sakura."

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.

.

Between missions and certain jobs that he had to take care of, Shisui didn't have much time to reflect on his impulsive decision. So far, Haruno-san hadn't given him a reason to. His assessments of her were correct; her skills were a valuable asset to his team and she was one disciplined individual. She killed. She healed. She listened to orders. Haruno-san executed tasks handed to her like a well-oiled machine.

He would be prone to believe this version of hers had he not known otherwise.

While she was decimating the training ground in front of his eyes, he tried to juxtapose the iron hand that shattered the earth into pieces with the shaky hand that held their dead teammate. He failed spectacularly.

When it came to Haruno Sakura, he mused, contradictions seemed to be expected.

Shisui's sharingan swirled lazily while observing his teammates spar. Ever since she officially joined his team, their meetings were more frequent due to these training sessions. No matter how many times he had watched her favorite offensive move, though, it never failed to fascinate him. At first glance her technique appeared to depend solely on brute force but once you understood its principle, it became the very opposite of that assumption. To concentrate the right amount of chakra – not too much, not too little – into a part of your body and release it at exact timing without conscious effort was no small feat. It's hard _not_ to admire the degree of skill packed into that one fist.

He wondered how the squirmy pink-haired little girl in his memory could become a young woman who splintered an oak tree.

Shisui closed his eyes and listened to the deafening sound of an earthquake, of enormous trees falling down, and of her opponent's screeching.

 _Ah_ , he thought, _that must be the sound of endless practice_.

When he opened his eyes again, the fight was already over. His subordinate, who was matched against her, was sitting with his back leaning on the only tree in the vicinity that survived her attacks. He was panting heavily, sweats rolling down his face. Haruno-san stood several feet away from him. She seemed to be slightly out of breath and he could spot some bruises and cuts that were beginning to fade under her glowing hand. But other than that, it's clear who the victor was.

Haruno-san hadn't relaxed her posture; she was still looking intensely at her defeated opponent when he came close to her. Her brows furrowed while her eyes looked contemplative like she was calculating all the right moves she should have made. This, to be honest, did perplex Shisui. He had watched their entire match and he thought she had done a splendid job; nothing to criticize besides, perhaps, be nicer to her surroundings.

She only noticed him when he stood right next to her as proven by her jumping slightly. Now this was worth a criticism, shinobi should always be on alert even though they were in the safe zone of their village.

("You don't know where your enemies lurk." was his parents' constant whisper during the clan gatherings.

Shisui never replied, his eyes continued to stare at the mass of black hair and black eyes that were not so different from his.)

Still, he would let it slide this one time for her previous performance.

Her eyes darted to him then she quickly averted them back to their teammate. For a second, he thought he caught a glimpse of that little girl in the past.

"Well done, Haruno-san." Shisui rarely commended on his subordinates, only on the missions or the whole team in general; but he supposed what she had shown him deserved a praise.

Haruno-san whipped her head so fast it must hurt and she had this stunned look like she couldn't believe what he just said. Then as her expression relaxed and her lips curved up into a tentative smile, she finally looked him in the eyes.

It was at that moment, when they stood side by side under the sunlight that seemed to make her eyes sparkle, Shisui became conscious of something for the first time.

Haruno Sakura's eyes were really, really green.

And they were breathtaking.

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.

.

Watching Haruno-san was like watching nature in flesh and blood.

She normally had a cheery appearance resembling nice sunny days, with her eyes reflecting the color of fresh leaves. When she was upset, it reminded him of an afternoon rain – gloomy and dark – and the green in her eyes dimmed a few shades till it became a fragmented emerald. If she got angry, interestingly enough, her eyes would glow an atomic green and her expression was much akin to a thunderous sky.

At the third month of her admission into his team, Shisui had learnt to accept that the image of a perfect kunoichi might be created by his tired eyes.

Or, maybe, he just never truly looked at Haruno Sakura.

That day at the training ground seemed to lift up an invisible veil before his eyes and he started to see her more clearly. He wasn't sure he still liked what he saw, though.

He didn't regret his decision of choosing her as his subordinate for Haruno-san always completed her jobs without so much of a hitch. She never jeopardized the team's missions despite her, what he deemed as, shortcoming so he had yet voiced his opinion on the matter; but it _did_ baffle him how her teacher had passed someone like her – who wore emotions on her sleeve. Then again, the same teacher had passed the loud and boisterous Naruto-kun so he shouldn't be surprised.

Ironically that Hatake-san approved of such students – for a shinobi with his face hidden all the time, that is.

(It's the definition of shinobi. The ability to hide behind a mask. To act not in tune with your heart. To be all smiles even though you just wanted to run your tantou through those standing before you.

Even at the tender age of five, he knew _that_ _look_ on his father's face, knew what was in his mind as his mouth stretched up showing white teeth while he was talking to his clansmen.

Each time, Shisui had to force himself to look away.)

Perhaps someday he would tell her a thing or two about her open display of emotion, but…

Haruno-san was discussing with a teammate about poisons, excitement barely contained in her small frame. Her eyes lit up like the river caught morning light, clear and glimmering and its vibrancy keeping his gaze intent on her like hypnosis.

… _not today._

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Shisui could not fault those who disliked going to the hospital. There was always the distinct smell of medicine and antiseptic permeating into every corner of this building. On its best day, the place was relatively quiet with patients waiting for their turn in silence and soft instructions from the staffs. On its worst day, however, desperate screams mixed with anguish cries and doctors and nurses, in their pristine white outfit, breezed in and out of rooms like spectres.

Worst day happened more often than not at the hospital of a ninja village.

Admittedly, he would also steer clear of this place if it's not time for his regular check-up. Good thing that the procedure normally lasted two hours at most, he thought as he opened the door to his designated room.

"Good morning, Taichou."

Shisui blinked.

Haruno-san was dressed in a long-sleeved unbuttoned white coat, revealing her trademark red qipao underneath. She was holding a clipboard in one hand while the other gestured to the examination table.

"Please sit down," she smiled at him.

He wordlessly did as she said. This was quite a surprise but not one he would complain about.

(For some reasons, he did not find it in him to complain anything about her.)

Once he sat on the table, Haruno-san stepped closer until she stood between his legs, then she put down her clipboard next to him. She was close enough for efficiency but not too close that it would make one uncomfortable. Her glowing hands raised and the process began. Inserting your chakra into another body even for medical purpose was still an intrusion; it could be highly unpleasant so medics often tried their best to make the process unnoticeable. Shisui had his fair share of medics but he thought Haruno-san lived up to her title as one of the greatest medical ninja. She didn't bother to cover her chakra; you could feel it throughout your body but instead of the prickly sensation when something alien was inside you, you feel rested like soaking in a warm bath after a long day.

Maybe the pleasing cadence of her voice helped as well. During the session, Haruno-san never let the silence stretch to awkwardness but she also didn't become a chatterbox that would annoy people who were not much of a talker. She occasionally engaged you in questions that weren't nosy. And in between asks and answers, she humored you with technical explanations of what she was doing. Not once did her voice change its gentle, soothing rhythm.

As she concentrated on her task, Shisui looked down at her. Haruno-san had fair complexion, with faint freckles sprinkling across the bridge of her button nose. Her long pale pink eyelash fluttered when she blinked. Every time she smiled, her cheeks would dip a little. Looking at her certainly helped one to relax too, he amusedly thought.

"You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

The unexpected question pulled him out of his daze. It appeared that Haruno-san had completed her medical check and was now standing at a respectful distance to write on her clipboard. Shisui spent a moment to mentally scold himself for being distracted before replying.

"Surely I'm not that obvious?"

He didn't deny because one look at her and he knew it's pointless to hide these things from a seasoned medic. But his tone was light, the kind he used when he wanted to divert attention from a particular topic.

(His village. His clan. The council. The elders. Conspiracy. Countermeasure. Fugaku-san. Yondaime-sama.

They all made his head spin. But it wouldn't do telling anyone that. Itachi would be worried.)

Haruno-san tilted her head to one side, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Ah Taichou, the first lesson we learn as medics is to see what the patients don't show or talk about. But," her eyes twinkled, "if _it_ helps you to sleep better at night, then I have to say you're one of the best at pretending you're fine."

In spite of himself, he let out a small laugh at that. Being in Haruno-san's presence seemed to have this effect, any pressure disappeared altogether.

"Still," she continued as she walked to her desk, "we'll have to do something about your problem."

She shuffled the drawers for a while before coming back with a small transparent bottle. Inside it was more than a dozen of little red pills.

"This is something I make," there was a hint of pride in her voice. "It eases your tenseness and makes sleep come easier but unlike soporific drugs, it doesn't increase drowsiness so that you aren't able to react appropriately to any possible threat."

She held up the bottle to him. "Besides," she beamed, "I even make it sweet."

Shisui stared at her. Part of him wanted to ask why put effort in something like making sleeping pill sweet. A larger part wanted to chuckle at the sight of her being visibly pleased with her childlike creation.

At his silence, Haruno-san sheepishly scratched the back of her head. "You don't like sweets, Taichou?"

(Every time he passed by Teyaki-san and Uruchi-san's senbei shop with one or both of his parents, they rarely stopped and would pull his hand harder. Shisui only had time to wave back to the friendly couple.

His parents had little to non-existent indulgence for small pleasures such as enjoying snacks every now and then. Each day was a lesson on how to be the best shinobi. The closest thing to a snack he used to have was his mother's herbal drinks.

"For your health," she always said.

They were often bitter. On good days that they were bittersweet, it was more bitter than sweet.

No one even asked if Shisui wanted them.)

Haruno-san was wearing a look that he couldn't quite identify in her eyes. He wondered, what she was thinking.

When she spoke again, her voice was so tender. "You can try it, Taichou. And if it's not up to your taste," she grinned, "I'm sure I can make something specifically for you."

.

.

.

That night, he fell asleep – a deep and peaceful sleep – to the sweet taste in his mouth and the lingering of a soft voice that was like a lullaby.

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"You're eating lunch here too, Taichou?"

Shisui was enjoying his curry bento on top of the stony head of Nidaime-sama when he felt someone approach. A few seconds later, Haruno-san's voice reached his ears.

He turned his head in time to see her sit down an arm's length away from him. Her legs folded neatly underneath her thighs – proper seiza – with a bento box lying on her lap. As she opened her box, he answered.

"Ah yes, I often bring my lunch here. It has nice view."

Hokage Mountain was the only place that let you view Konoha in its entirety. To the left was where all the training grounds located; distant screaming and sound of jutsu used could be heard. To the right was Hokage Tower, several Anbu were stationed on top of it with some more standing casually on the roofs of nearby buildings. Further away from the front was the Uchiha Compound, and if you had good eyes – like sharingan – you would see it was tightly guarded by dozens of shinobi dressed in high-collared dark shirt and dark pants; each of them had glowing eyes that looked like tiny red dots from here. All the while, past and present leaders of the village overlooked their oblivious people walking – some were in a hurry, some were just strolling – on busy streets decorated by colorful vendor carts.

No place reminded you of _village_ and _duty_ and _shinobi_ like Hokage Mountain.

Perhaps that's why he came here so often.

Shisui tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him then glanced at Haruno-san. She was happily eating her bento, which was full of rice and had a single umeboshi in the centre. It seemed like she didn't have much time to prepare her lunch. Seeing the umeboshi, though, made him remember something.

"Did you put plum in your sleeping pill, Haruno-san?"

Haruno-san perked up.

"You noticed, Taichou?" Her expression brightened, similar to that of Mikoto-san when someone recognized an extra addition in her dishes.

"The taste is faint but I'm quite sure it is plum."

Haruno-san hummed her appreciation, "Yes, it is. It's a great fruit, you know."

Looking at her bento again, he asked, "Do you like plum?"

She used her chopsticks to poke at the umeboshi when she replied, "One of my favorite foods is umeboshi but I like plum in general. Great savor and tons of health benefits. I try to add it in many things."

"Besides," she looked up at him with a smile that was undiluted in its innocence, "some people say plum tree symbolizes happiness and good fortune and who wouldn't want that from time to time?"

Her reason was so simple, so honest, and it put a smile on his face. "Indeed."

They continued with their meals until Haruno-san looked as if she suddenly realized something and turned to him before she spoke.

"Taichou, is Nidaime-sama your favorite Hokage?"

Now _that_ was unexpected. "What makes you think so?"

She scratched the back of her head. Haruno-san did that a lot when she was being embarrassed.

"Oh, you chose to sit on his head. Normally when people come here, they pick their favorite Hokage or the one they think was the coolest. And," she frowned like her words made her upset, "I don't see people favor Nidaime-sama that often so I'm a bit curious."

(On rare occasions that his parents actually displayed some kind of emotion other than the fake neutral indifference, it was to show pride at what had been long lost in the past.

"Our ancestor, Uchiha Kagami, was the only Uchiha that Nidaime-sama put his complete faith upon."

Shisui wondered if that was the only thing left for them to be proud of.)

"He was a formidable shinobi. My parents admired him."

He could have provided a different answer; his choice was random; he didn't think much of Nidaime-sama; it had better view from here. But, Haruno-san was always earnest and sincere and that propelled you to respond to her in kind, preventing you from telling an outright lie. So he settled with what was closest to the truth.

If Haruno-san noticed how he hadn't really answered her question, she didn't comment on it.

"What about you? Do you admire him?" It's his turn to be curious.

Haruno-san contemplated his question for a moment then she slowly said, "Rather than admire, I would say I'm grateful to him."

"Grateful?"

"Yes. Do you know that when our village had just been founded, the Academy only opened to clans' children? However, Nidaime-sama reformed the education system and allowed children from civilian families to enroll."

She smiled, "If it's not for his policy, I wouldn't be able to become a shinobi."

He remembered now. When Sasuke came back from the first meeting with his genin team, he did mention about his female teammate not hailing from a clan. At that time, it had sparked an interest in Shisui; it's normal for children from ninja clans to follow their parents' footsteps but civilian tended to stay away from the horrid life of shinobi. What motivated the girl to follow this path? But ever since he became more acquainted with Haruno-san, her background sort of slipped from his mind. Until today. Not for the first time – after he witnessed, over and over, she defied one of those rules that her much respected Nidaime-sama wrote – he wanted to ask why she desired to be a shinobi in the first place.

And ask he did.

Haruno-san opened her mouth then closed it immediately and repeated this for several times before turning her attention to her bento. Just as he was about to say that she didn't need to answer if it made her uncomfortable, she mumbled with voice so small that he almost didn't catch it.

"When I was eight, I saw Sasuke-kun and Itachi-san practice by chance. Their movements were beautiful it enchanted me so much that I rushed home and told my parents I wanted to be a ninja."

"And your parents didn't object to it?"

She was definitely embarrassed now, with faint slashes of pink decorating her cheeks. "I can be quite…stubborn when I want to."

The pink on her cheeks turned darker and she still refused to look at him. But all Shisui could think of was Haruno-san, even at such a young age, had known what she wanted – no matter how misguided that was – and followed it – the image of her shaky form kneeling next to their fallen comrade was still vivid in his mind – despite every bitter twists and turns.

That's more than anything he could say about himself.

Haruno-san seemed to have regained her composure since she was looking at the front when her calm voice continued, "Anyway, in hindsight, someone as pragmatic as Nidaime-sama probably did that because he wanted to expand the ninja population."

"But," her smile was clear even seen from the side, "at the beginning, it's nice to think that a great shinobi like him saw potential in normal kids like me."

 _Oh._

Haruno-san's constant confidence had blinded him that he failed to see what lay underneath. It must be hard to step in the ninja world, saw all those advantages a clan child inherit and realized you only had yourself. No guidance, no family jutsu, no one to confide in about the harshness a shinobi must face for children from civilian families. And – he thought of Naruto-kun's tremendous chakra reserve and Sasuke's brilliant talent even from a young age – how one, painfully normal, felt when standing next to abnormalities even by shinobi standards.

But, Shisui remembered the best chakra control he'd ever seen; a keen mind that sometimes caught him off guard; dainty hands that shattered the earth and brought people back from the brink of death despite all the odds stacked against them.

 _No_ , Haruno-san wasn't one for him to pity. There was nothing to pity here.

"Either way," he said, with more conviction than he ever recalled, "I'd say Nidaime-sama reached his goal. Two third of our village citizens are shinobi and we have you as a combat-medical ninja on par with Tsunade-hime."

Haruno-san neither hid her widened eyes nor the expression that was a cross between utter confusion and utter amazement.

A few moments ticked by, then her features loosened up and it lightened with her face breaking into a _stunning breathtaking radiant smile_.

His heart stopped for a split second.

Shisui was thankful for the sudden strong gush of wind that had Haruno-san secure her bento in a hurry, temporarily forgetting to pay him attention. Because, he could feel heat – _slowly but surely_ – rising to his face.

When she turned back to him – there were still remnants of that smile etched on her features – Shisui was once again the composed shinobi that he had always been. As he saw her attempt to smooth down her hair, he noticed she had missed a small leaf being stuck on it. He scooted closer, his hand reaching for her head.

"Haruno-san, you missed this."

Pastel pink tresses were silky against the pads of his calloused fingers. Her hair caught the golden sunlight, turning it into a gleaming stream.

That didn't surprise him. Everything about her shone.

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.

"By the way, Taichou, you can call me Sakura. 'Haruno-san' is too stiff."

A pause. "I see, Sakura-san. Then please call me Shisui."

A smile. "Okay, Shisui-san."

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She was not a perfect kunoichi, he thought. Instead, Sakura-san was:

Contradictory. Hands that were soaked in blood of those she had killed and healed. All soft curves and femininity accompanied a fist that cut through the earth. Transparent in most days yet still left you ponder on what she was really thinking. Hot-headed with a mind clear enough to see through the most intricate attack pattern. Gentle eyes were followed by a look of steel. Woman and girl rolled into one.

Honest. To people, to her words, to her feelings, to everything she did. There were times when Shisui couldn't shake off the feeling that she was more – knew more, thought more, felt more – than she let on; and you only recognized she was hiding something because you had been observing her closely, not because she let it slip. But if you asked her about it, her answer was sometimes direct, sometimes not, but never a lie, "I don't want to talk about it." She chose to be honest.

Odd. "What are you doing this time?" "Oh, I'm making anmitsu-flavored painkillers." "…Sakura-san, are you trying to promote all of your favorite foods?" "That I am. Do you want to take a look at my strategy plan for that? I think I leave it here…" "Ah, no need to, Sakura-san. I wish you the best of luck with your endeavor." "Thank you, Shisui-san."

Independent. She had her own opinion on anything and everything. How much water you should use to boil egg. How to fold clothes in the shortest time. How to hit vital points with enough pressure to render one unconscious but not enough to kill them. How some of Nidaime-sama's rules were utterly ridiculous. "I thought you said you were grateful to him?" "How does that have anything to do with what I think?"

Determined. "Again, please." "Sakura-san, I think it's time you take a break." "I can still continue our spar, Shisui-san." "No, you don't. You're out of chakra and…" The mark on her forehead lit up, white lines ran along the smooth surface of her exposed skin. " _Again,_ please." He wondered if this was how her parents felt when they couldn't say no to the fire in her eyes, lest they wanted to get burnt by it.

Insecure. By now Sakura-san had grown out of that little girl who was easy to forget if not for her exotic hair. But, at times, she would have this faraway look when she watched Sasuke and Naruto-kun spar, trading back and forth jutsu that were too powerful for their peers and even their seniors; when after she made a mistake – one so insignificant that most people would wave it off; when she didn't perform a task up to her own expectations. He suspected that this part of her – small and not overwhelming and more like a not-so-fond memory that one sporadically thought of – would always be there.

Perceptive. "You have been taking missions that I'm not aware of, right," she said while her glowing hands were hovering above his eyes. He neither confirmed nor denied her question – it sounded more like a statement – and she understood. They would fall into a comfortable silence as her fingers gently tapped on his temples and soothing chakra washed over his exhausted eyes.

Kind. She always did things that her responsibility didn't demand of when she visited a patient. Some days she would stay late at night to whisper bedtime stories to a child. Some days she listened patiently, attentively to an old man retelling the same old tale for the umpteenth time. Some days she just sat there, holding the hand of her patient until they felt into a blissful sleep.

Strong. There was that one time he happened to be at the hospital when she was speaking to a hysterically crying woman. At the sight of Sakura-san's haggard appearance, the slight bow of her head, the way her voice was barely a murmur, Shisui realized this was one of those worst days. Long after the woman had left, she was still standing there with her back leaning on the wall and her eyes closed while facing the ceiling. As a child, Shisui learnt that strength was measured by how many bull's eyes you hit, by the radius of your katon, by the number of lives you took. But watching Sakura-san, he thought, there was strength in the way you used your own hands to wipe the unshed tears, the way you stood a little straighter with a new fire in your eyes and your legs stumbled at first but grew steadier as you slowly moved forwards.

And bright. Days passed with his responsibilities – _Konoha, Uchiha_ – getting heavier and heavier and the nights that he used plum-flavored pills also increased in turn. Its taste that had been altered slightly to his liking just like she promised, lingered until the next morning – when he woke up refreshed and tried to relive the pleasant dream about a young woman, whose mere vision of hers brightened his darkest nights.

(By the seventh month since she joined, his eyes – conscious or not – had started searching for green and pink among the mass of people.)

.

.

.

"They will act soon," Itachi notified.

"They don't know that Yondaime-sama has taken necessary precautions. Their plan won't come to fruition." Shisui said.

"Yes, because they aren't aware of you being the mole."

He didn't reply as he continued to munch on his senbei. Itachi remained quiet for a moment – his gaze didn't lessen its intensity – before he finally spoke again.

"I didn't know you liked senbei."

"Oh. Actually, I just bought this at Teyaki-san's store before I went to meet you. Lovely couple they are. They even gave me free extra. For first-time customer, they said."

At Itachi's contemplative look, Shisui smiled his ever pleasant smile, "Don't worry, I have not forgotten my duty."

"It's just that," his mouth quirked up higher as he thought of _plum_ and _Sakura-san_ , "it's nice to indulge myself once in a while."

.

.

.

Shisui didn't know what he had expected for his last mission before turning his full attention on more pressing matters, but he certainly didn't expect a terrible storm coming with heavy rain. Among blackened sky restlessly grumbling and water pouring down over the forest, their team was forced to split before they knew it.

He hoped this rain wasn't a bad omen.

At least he was with Sakura-san; that made the situation better. Right now she was using her inhuman strength to squeeze their soaked cloaks while he was going around the cave that they found shelter in to collect some branches. When he returned to where she sat, Sakura-san was rubbing her hands over her arms.

"It's really cold in here," she muttered.

He arranged the wood on the ground and with quick motion of his hands, a glow of orange mixed with yellow filled the narrow cave.

"Good thing I'm a katon user then," he said as he settled down next to her. "I can keep us warm."

(He was thankful they didn't have to spend the night running under sheets of water. While he could still perform a decent katon in this weather, rain was never an ideal scenario for fire users. He did possess other elemental powers but fire would always be his signature move, his strongest elemental attack, and his reminder of the Uchiha in him. He felt most empowered when using fire so he didn't welcome rain in any shape or form.

Rain had not once brought him good memory anyway.)

Sakura-san let out a small hearty laugh at his words and he wasn't sure what was funny but she looked happy so he left it at that. Then she turned to him, hands already glowing green.

"I think I will check your eyes now."

He nodded his acquiescence and comforting chakra began to seep into his eyes. This had become a common practice between them; she would check for any problem his eyes might have after every mission. At first he declined because he didn't want to trouble her but Sakura-san's stubborn determination always won in the end. He needed his eyes to be at their best condition, anyway.

Besides, it never hurt to have Sakura-san this close to him.

"I have eased your eye strain, but other than that, there's nothing to worry about now," she said as she retracted her hands and he instantly missed her gentle chakra.

"That's good to hear."

"I was worried about the damage being more serious."

"But thanks to you, it won't come to that," he smiled.

She returned his smile, "Well, you should also thank yourself since I can see that you do take good care of your eyes, despite all those jobs you receive from both the Military Police Force and Yondaime-sama."

There was a brief pause before he responded, "Ah, lately I have not been participating much in the Police Force activities. It's my regret that I can't contribute more as a member of the Uchiha clan."

"However," he stared into the fire in front of them, "these missions that take most of my time help our village so I suppose it's worth it."

When Sakura-san was silent for a tad too long, he turned to look at her. The bright light of the fire had created shadows playing across her form. Her face was strongly accentuated, one side clear, one side veiled. The look in her eyes was familiar; he remembered seeing that look at the examination room several months ago and he also remembered wondering the meaning behind it.

"When I was a kid," she started so abruptly, pulling him out of his trance, "when I still called you 'Uchiha-san', I often saw you around the village, dressed in your police uniform."

He wasn't sure where she was going with this but he wouldn't interrupt anything Sakura-san had to say.

"In my eyes at that time, Uchiha-san the Police was…scary," she hesitated for a moment, like it's not quite the word she wanted to use. "Even then, I could see how much dedication you put into your duty, how much you tried to live up to your clan's standards."

The rain hit the cave harshly coupled with moaning wind and screeching lightning. Their campfire flickered so Sakura-san put more wood into it before she continued.

"Ever since I joined your team, you're not so scary anymore," she chuckled as she used a spare branch to poke at the wood. "Yet I think I can still see the same Uchiha-san in my Taichou, working restlessly for others and putting them before him."

"I can't help but wonder one thing, though. 'Uchiha-san' devotes himself to his clan and 'Taichou' places the village above all. But then,"

Now she fully turned to him, her green gaze was clear and sincere like the first time he laid his eyes upon it.

"What does Shisui-san want?"

.

.

.

(On the night he awakened his sharingan, it had been raining too.

The first thing his sharingan saw, was his parents' names on the Memorial Stone. Against the cold downpour, the only thing that could burn was the inferno in his eyes. It burnt until he could see their names in blood-red.

His parents, who had long lost their standing among the clan and who were unable to awake their bloodline limit, returned only as names on a cracked stone slab after they died.

A small snide part in him – thinking of his father and mother's eyes that never turned crimson – was deafening in its whisper, "Your love for the village only amounts that much."

They had lost their lives in the war, in a mission that they volunteered to be the bait so their comrades could come back safely. Oh so much like their beloved Nidaime-sama they _must_ die happy.

What about Shisui then?

What should he feel? Sad? Proud? Enraged?

What should he do? Cry? Scream? Spit?

His parents died leaving their only child: no corpse to bury, no keepsake to hold onto, no more lessons, the nothingness in him.

Still, Shisui remembered: the difference, lessons at his family's porch, herbal drinks, Konoha, and rule twenty-five. He remembered _shinobi_ – the only thing his father and mother had strived for all their life, regardless of their motive.

Now he wanted to laugh because _wasn't it funny_? For all his parents' effort to drill into his brain that he was different, in the end he was an Uchiha at heart. He, who could no longer distinguish between love and hatred for his parents. He, who chose to honor their wish over everything – his dear clansmen, his village, _himself_.

He would become a true shinobi, whose meaning was to serve his village in the dark; whose entire being was but a shadow; whose existence would eventually be lost in time.

Like tears in the rain.)

.

.

.

Long after Sakura-san had fallen asleep, Shisui went out in the violent rain and let the heaven cry upon him.

.

.

.

"They had set the date." he told Itachi.

His cousin nodded. "Our force is ready. We can intercept them anytime."

"Yes, it's going to be over soon."

(It had been a month since he stopped taking missions; a month without Sakura-san. In the darkest of nights, her question kept replaying in his head.

 _"What does Shisui-san want?"_ )

.

.

.

 _Someone above must be mocking me._

Shisui thought while sitting under the cascade of water and watching his village from the top of Nidaime-sama's stone head. It had started with a whisper in the air. Then soft pitter-patter sounds came as the first droplets fell down and in mere minutes, he was engulfed by the torrent.

He strained his red eyes to look through the thick wall of rain, to reach a compound lying so far away from Hokage Mountain. There were tiny light dots in that area, possibly coming from the lamps of various households. He thought he could see a flickering light near the centre, where Teyaki-san and Uruchi-san lived.

 _Too bad I cannot buy their senbei anymore._

But that was alright. No life was taken tonight. The coup d'état had been stopped. Bloodshed among people of the same village wouldn't happen. Tomorrow was another new day with Konoha citizens repeating their routine.

It's a good outcome, he decided, being exiled from his clan was nothing.

Except it was not.

Shisui had believed he was prepared. This was something that the six-year-old boy standing under the downpour – in front of his parents' names – resolved to do. Duty, at the cost of family. Love, at the cost of self.

But reality always bit.

Shisui wasn't sure if their clan had surrendered due to being unexpectedly overwhelmed, or they were simply too shocked to do anything else ever since they saw which side he was on. Itachi had never been shy about his rebellious attitude, but _Shisui_. Devoted Shisui, who possessed the most powerful genjutsu since Uchiha Madara; who had followed the clan's orders without question; who was one of their greatest prides; who had sworn his love for his kin. _That Shisui_. The one whom they had trusted to be one of their own.

And Uchiha never forgave a love betrayed.

Like he once said – a love that burned anything and everything.

 _It's fine_ , he closed his eyes, _the rain will wash away this feeling_.

He would be sitting here all night if not for the presence that he had felt even before it revealed itself.

"You will catch a terrible cold," her gentle voice was laced with concern.

She was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"I could say the same about you, Sakura-san. It's best that you go home, I can't keep us warm in weather like this."

Despite the loud drumming against the stone's surface, he heard slow footsteps approach. He refused to face her, intent on keeping his gaze ahead. However, Sakura-san had no interest in looking at his pathetic expression for she sat down right behind him – back to back. There was a faint rustling sound and suddenly the sheet of water parted, not a single drop falling down on where they were sitting. Around them, the rain kept on howling.

"Good thing I'm a suiton user then," she said as her hand tentatively covered his bigger one. "I can shield us from the rain."

Shisui stayed still, because he didn't trust his voice not to quiver. And it was okay. She understood.

He leaned back, wanting to have as much contact with Sakura-san as possible. Her shoulders were still as small but they weren't shaking this time and they held all of his weight unflinchingly.

Her hand was warm against his.

 _This warmth_ , he thought, _will not be washed away_.

.

.

.

"Shisui-san, I have left clothes for you to change here. Please come to the kitchen when you're done." He heard her call from outside.

He was at Sakura-san's apartment, using her shower. Normally he would think how inappropriate of him to come to a woman's house at this hour and stay overnight. But now he could admit that he didn't want to be alone – especially not when he could stay near Sakura-san.

Shisui turned off the warm water and stepped into the changing room. Her spare clothes for him were neatly folded on the counter. Dark t-shirt and sweatpants. They must belong to one of her teammates; Hatake-san, Naruto-kun, or Sasuke. They were a close-knit team and he knew for a fact that Sasuke frequented her place. Mikoto-san often told him that his younger cousin was with his friends at Sakura-chan's apartment.

He couldn't blame them for liking to go here. Sakura-san's place was small but cozy; everything was kept in order. There was a vague smell of something sweet but not too much. Maybe it came from the various plants and flowers that she had in her home. The moment he stepped into this place, he had noticed how green it was. There was a cactus by the living room's windowsill and a vase of daffodils on her coffee table. At the end of her corridor, he saw plants that he didn't know of. In her bathroom and changing room, he recognized some as aloe vera, orchid, and peace lily.

It's like spring was always here.

When he finished dressing, Shisui stepped outside and walked towards the only source of sound in this house.

Sakura-san's kitchen was just like other parts of her house that he had seen. Clean, warm, with a pleasing smell. On the counter next to her fridge were several jars with tags attached. He could read ginger syrup, green tea, and honey. Sakura-san was currently busy scooping out small spoons of some yellowish-orange liquid from a jar into a glass bowl. It didn't come as a surprise to see plums floating in the jar.

 _Of course_ , he smiled to himself.

After sprinkling something that looked like small dried fruit slices on top of the bowl, she beamed as she handed it to him.

"My killer plum syrup lemon jelly! With blueberry topping! The best treat you could have before resting for the day!"

"I see that your promotion campaign is still going strong," he chuckled.

"People literally kill for this, you know," her eyes formed crescent moons.

"I don't doubt that." he agreed heartily.

And at the first spoon, Shisui thought he would kill for this too. The taste of plum and lemon blended in to form a perfect combination. When you swallowed, it melted inside you followed by a cool soothing sensation spreading throughout your body. Any stress you might have seemed to evaporate. Yes, definitely worth killing for.

Moments stretched into long minutes, with the two of them being content with the other's silence. He could still hear the raining noise from outside but it seemed like a distant echo now. When Shisui finished the last of his jelly, he put down the empty bowl and looked at Sakura-san. He was the one to break the silence between them.

"Sakura-san, do you think you would have been happier had you listened to your parents and didn't become a shinobi?"

She neither replied immediately nor did she look away to ponder over his question. In the time that she took to think of an answer, she held his gaze. Finally, her mouth opened.

"I don't know." she admitted.

"You don't know..." he trailed off.

"Yes," she nodded, "sometimes I do think about all the what-could-have-been. But at the end of the day, they are just that and never become the now. I will never know what they would have brought so I prefer to focus on the now."

"So what's about now? Are you happy with your choice?" This was the first time he pressed her on something, but he desperately wanted an answer.

"I would be lying if I said I always was," her brows furrowed and her fist clenched a little as she clearly recalled something unpleasant. "There were, and still are, times when I think it's better if I give up. Still, I'm truly glad that I chose to become a shinobi."

"Why?"

Her face relaxed. "If I didn't, I would never meet them. Ino, Naruto, Sasuke-kun, Kakashi-sensei, Lee-san, Tsunade-shishou, Chiyo-baasama, and,"

Sakura-san smiled then, and he thought of the first sunshine of spring after a prolonged dreary winter. "You too, Shisui-san."

After a moment, in which he was still too stunned by her words to react, she asked softly, "What about you, Shisui-san? Are you happy?"

Was he? He had stopped thinking about what he felt a long time ago. _But_. He remembered Fugaku-san's relieved face – slight but it's there – when the coup was stopped successfully. Itachi didn't have to resort to ghastly measures, staining his hands with his kin's blood. Sasuke could still be with both his clansmen and precious teammates, not being torn between two sides. Tomorrow Teyaki-san and Uruchi-san would open their shop like any other day, selling the best senbei in the world. _And_ , Sakura-san was here, offering her killer plum syrup lemon jelly and telling him with a heartfelt smile that she was glad she met him.

"Yes," Shisui answered, sincere and certain than he ever remembered, "I am truly happy."

.

.

.

When he woke up on the next morning it was at half past eight. This was the first time in his entire life that he slept in. Shisui wasn't bothered, though; he never had a sleep that serene. No worry, no nightmare, just sleeping blissfully until morning came.

Sakura-san was nowhere in sight. She had gone to the hospital as the note on her kitchen table said. He almost wanted to giggle at her scrawly handwriting. For a neat and meticulous person, her handwriting left much to desire. Must be a doctor's thing, he amusedly thought.

Shisui eyed the meal that she had prepared for him. Three umeboshi onigiri – how unsurprising, he smiled – with a bowl of pork miso soup. He sat down and began to eat his breakfast.

As he munched on his onigiri and in between sips of the miso soup, which still had lingering warmness, he thought about Sakura-san.

Some people, like Naruto-kun, was as warm as the sun; scorching in its heat and might set others on fire. Sakura-san's warmth was more subtle; you wouldn't notice it right away. It was like the sake cups you shared with your father in winter; the freshly cooked meals from your mother; the kotatsu that families gathered around in chilly days. Her warmth seeped into your body bit by bit and made a home there.

And before you knew it, you were already in too deep.

.

.

.

Life moved on after that.

Following the failed coup, Itachi and Shisui continued to support Yondaime-sama in integrating the clans more fully into Konoha. They all knew the faults didn't lie in just one side; in order to achieve real peace among the village, mutual effort was required. This new policy would also prevent any possible coup that might be boiling. There was still tension with the Uchiha, which was to be expected after what happened, but they had shown that they were willing to try if given a chance. That was enough for now.

And sometimes when Shisui bumped into Uchiha elders after their meeting with the Hokage, their heads would incline a fraction in acknowledgement before they walked off.

Baby steps, he supposed.

As for Shisui, he resumed working as a captain and taking missions again. Itachi and Sasuke had helped him to move in his new apartment. It's small, suitable for one or two people, but had great view. The three of them met twice a week, to update about what was going on from both sides. If they had time, they would spar together. These days, Shisui didn't restrain as much as before, especially if the opponent was Sasuke. He often one-upped his little cousin through methods that he knew would annoy him. He had taken an interest in riling the dork – yes, that's what Sasuke was beneath the mighty Uchiha charade. If he lost, Sasuke would bring senbei the next time they met, saying it's a tribute to the winner. A kind dork.

His conversations with Itachi weren't all about shinobi, village, and clan like before. They also talked about mundane things like Mikoto-san's new recipe, the dango shop near Konoha's market, and so on. Itachi looked more his age; the tear troughs weren't that prominent anymore. He also tended to react more visibly now. Shisui once told him that he should invite Izumi-san to the dango shop and Itachi looked away rather quickly. Maybe to hide his pink-tinted cheeks.

Life was treating him good.

Sakura and he became closer. They were 'Shisui' and 'Sakura' now, honorifics forgone. They met outside of professional occasions. She took him to all her favorite sweets shops; sometimes it's her treat, sometimes it's his. Many Sunday mornings were spent on sharing knowledge about herbs and weapons. He regularly made time to fetch her from work; once in a while they ate dinner at a nice restaurant. If they were both available, they would have lunch together on top of Nidaime-sama, with their arms touching and talking about nothing and everything.

Like what they were doing right now.

Sakura was laughing as she told him about Naruto-kun's latest prank on Hatake-san. In her excitement she didn't notice the orange smear at the corner of her mouth – it's plum jam this time. When Shisui pointed that out to her with the added comment that she looked like a little kid, Sakura responded with an indignant huff and whipped her head to the side, her arms crossed.

Shisui did laugh out loud at that. Because Sakura was acting very much like the kid he accused her of and it was both childish and endearing. He raised his hands in a placating gesture but she was too busy ignoring him to see it. So he reached out to her, his hand gently turned her head back to face him. He used his thumb to rub the smear but that only seemed to make it spread wider thus eliciting another laugh from him.

Sakura pouted and it drew his eyes to her plump lips. These lips had always asked him what he wanted. Nowadays he didn't give much thought to that question, because he was living _his_ life. But at this very moment, her question came back and Shisui knew the answer.

His head dipped down – carefully, slowly, giving her time to turn away if he was making her uncomfortable – and brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, tasting the savory flavor of plum, _of happiness_.

Then he moved back and looked at her – glimmering green eyes, flushed cheeks, _so beautiful_. Shisui smiled. The smile he remembered having back in those rare days, when his father was busy and he was free to chase after the bluebird. His smile brightened more while saying the words that he had wanted to tell her for a long time.

"I love you."

* * *

 **A/N:** ShisuiSaku needs more love, period. By the way, if anyone of you wonders, Shisui is 26 while Sakura is 18 at the beginning of this fic.

The second chapter will be told from Sakura's POV because a love story needs mutual development and a love confession should always be answered, be it a yes or no xD. Initially I wanted Shisui and Sakura to take turn to narrate but I think it would disrupt the flow of the story. This is smoother and gives more insight to their thinking. On a side note, the scene in which Sakura used suiton was totally added because I'm forever bitter that she doesn't use her elemental power in the manga lol.

The idea for this fic came to me five years ago and I actually wrote the first few sentences. Then my laziness got in the way. The main theme hasn't changed at all but my take on it did. Drastically. I wanted to write a fluff fic like my SasoSaku one but got stuck because I didn't know how I should write Shisui. As much as I am fascinated by him, I admit that he is an 'empty' character. All we know about him from the manga is that he is very ideal – as an Uchiha, as a shinobi. And even that is seen through the eyes of other characters; he never makes a direct appearance. We know nothing about his background, his likes and dislikes, what makes him tick, etc. So yeah, I took my inspiration from there and wrote this monster. God, this is longer than anything I've ever written; not to mention I still have part II to take care of...

Anyway, I haven't been writing anything for five years so I'm not sure about the quality of this fic. Truth be told, I'm quite nervous to post it. So if you like my fic, review pretty please :3. And add it to your fave/alert if you can xD.


	2. Sakura answered

Since she was young, Sakura could always sense when something was amiss.

It worked like this: a prickly feeling crawled underneath her skin, manifesting out of nowhere and gradually – sometimes rapidly – expanding until she knew what caused it. It's the feeling she had when she got ready to school like usual only to be notified later by Iruka-sensei that their class would have a surprise test. Or on one sunny day, Team Seven departed for a simple escort job – Naruto and Sasuke-kun bickering back and forth while Kakashi-sensei ignored them both – only to encounter a dangerous missing-nin and their mission ended with the almost-death of Sasuke-kun.

It's also the feeling she had when she first met face-to-face with Uchiha Shisui.

Looking at the pleasant smile he flashed at her – not a blinding grin like Naruto but his lips stretched up wide enough to show perfect white teeth and there were subtle crinkles around his eyes – for the life of her, she couldn't pinpoint what unsettled her so.

Uchiha Shisui was someone whose reputation preceded the man himself, making Sakura felt like she had known him even before Sasuke-kun introduced them. He was well-known for his superb skills and total devotion to his job. She hadn't witnessed him in combat but if Sasuke-kun grumbly retelling how he defeated Itachi-san was anything to go by then he must be terrific. And his devotion was something even the naked eyes could see. He was one of the most active members of the Military Police Force, never rejecting any request – big or small – for his help. He was a paragon of reliability, diligence, friendliness, humility.

So much perfection in a single person.

Sakura had never seen anything capable of marring the radiance that Uchiha Shisui exuded. Not those green-eyed colleagues of his, whispering how he was a monster underneath his human skin, how it's unnatural to be so magnificent behind his back. Not even the large number of people that flocked to his side without hesitation. No matter what was said to the Uchiha, he always responded with a smile.

There was something unnerving about a person who didn't react the slightest to insult or encouragement.

One could chalk it up to being shinobi, a profession that required you to suppress your feelings but Sakura knew better. Some were more proficient than others but no one was able to conceal their feelings completely. Even the most hardened shinobi – impassive face, tight jaw, stern eyes – were not expressionless if you were adept at knowing where to look. It showed in the faint upward curve of their mouth, the small crease between their brows, the split second in which their fingers twitched.

It's a nothing with Uchiha Shisui.

His usual demeanor never wavered, not in his body language and especially not in his pleasant smile.

At times Sakura would sneak glances at his eyes to gauge what he truly felt because, as people said, eyes were the windows to the soul. She didn't like what she saw. His pitch-black eyes seemed to look past things, over them, beyond them, _through_ them but never _at_ them. There was nothing reflected in that abyss.

Uchiha Shisui was a perfect shinobi – a void – hiding behind his smile.

By the time Team Seven had become young adults, he was Naruto's definition of cool guy, Sasuke-kun's irritating cousin whom he grudgingly admitted might be stronger than his older brother, and an Uchiha-san that Sakura couldn't look in the eyes.

This irrational uneasiness – the man had ever been polite to Sakura – followed her till the moment she went on her first mission with him.

Being in a same team with him solidified what she always heard but never witnessed. The man was spectacular in combat. Seeing him in action – fluid yet powerful – was almost like a privilege. He walked into battles with the same demeanor as in his daily life – deceptively easy-going posture and a smile that never quite left his face. The only difference, she thought, might be the glint in his normally blank eyes. It was rare in existence and she had seen it many a time in other strong shinobi's eyes to know what triggered it: watching a power that thrilled them and shook their entire core and they couldn't wait to test their strength against it.

It had been almost a decade since Sakura first knew of Uchiha Shisui and the only time he showed something close to an emotion – excitement perhaps – was when the glint in his eyes eventually bled to madly spinning crimson and he was ready to strike.

At those times, Sakura hazily remembered the vicious whispers often trailing after him.

 _This perfect monster shinobi, can barely keep his human form._

.

.

.

"Oh, it's the hospital's darling."

At Ino's amused voice, Sakura looked up from the chart she was reading and followed her friend's line of sight. Several feet away from where they stood, with his typical dark Uchiha attire sticking out like a sore thumb among the pristine white of the hospital, was her occasional captain talking to a flustered nurse.

"Darling?" she dumbly asked, her eyes still stuck on the scene before her. The nurse was blushing even harder when he smiled at her.

"Ah, you're not in charge of regular check-ups anymore." Ino laughed. "Anyway, right there is the staffs' super-duper darling. You don't have to pull death threat on him to get him follow instructions."

"Plus," she could hear the mischievous grin in the blonde's voice, "that pretty face sure helps relieve stress on our female staffs."

Sakura would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't too focused on her captain waving goodbye at the nurse. He was about to walk away when suddenly, as if summoned by a spell, he turned around and locked eyes with her. Feeling like she had been caught red-handed – ridiculous, really – she quickly nodded at him, to which he returned the gesture, then she turned on her heels, pulling Ino along with her.

Sakura could feel his eyes – those black, black eyes – burning on her back.

Her steps quickened.

.

.

.

Whoever told her that with time she would get used to death was a liar.

Looking at the bloody trail that led to her comrade's body, she didn't feel like the doctor who had been in this field for years but the girl who lost her first patient at fourteen.

(When it happened, she stood shell-shocked next to the emergency bed, her jumbled mind trying to comprehend how just a second before there was still the sound of a beating heart and the next only silence remained. Some of her seniors harshly shouted _'get over it'_ and _'you still have work to do'_. The kinder ones offered a pat on the back telling her she had tried her best. She screamed internally, _how could it be_ best _if there was a life lost?_

Later she remembered staggering back to her resting room at the hospital, throwing away the blood-stained clothes and scrubbing herself clean under the scalding shower. Then she pulled out of her secret cupboard the sake bottle she stole from Tsunade-shishou, as to prevent the older woman from drinking in working hours, and drank herself to oblivion uncaring that she was too young to consume alcohol.

One was never too young to drown in sorrow, anyway.

She woke up in the next morning with a severe headache – enough for her to never consume alcohol so carelessly again – that was healed immediately with a few flicks of her hand but – she almost vomited – she could still smell blood on her among the overwhelming alcohol stench and she could still see crimson lines marking her skin creases. Was it her imagination or reality she didn't know.

But what she did know, was that she would never get used to death.)

Slow steps took her to the unlucky teammate – there was no need to hurry because you didn't have to be a doctor to know this was a lost cause. There was no saving a person whose eyeballs was sticking out of the slimy mess from his brain and limbs bending like a broken doll.

She thought, with bitterness, horrid states of the body were something she did get used to.

Per regulation, this was the moment she would dispose of his body after analyzing the cause of his death to write a proper report. This was all a shinobi's life came down to: not a name and a face but a rank, a list of abilities, a reason on why they stopped being shinobi – resignation or death or anything in between. However, Sakura knew. She knew the hand of the mangled body that she was holding once belonged to a man named Kazuya. He had untamed brown hair, too serious dark brown eyes, a tendency to snore loud enough while sleeping, and a little sister to return to.

And he would return to her, to _home_. Sakura would make sure of that.

In the midst of her depressed musing, she was still acutely aware of the presence that had come with her to this scene. She knew what he was thinking even without turning back to face him. Itachi-san had expressed his concern when she joined his squad because the perfect shinobi expected his subordinates to uphold all that a shinobi embodied and God knew Haruno Sakura – dedicated, disciplined little Sakura – couldn't fucking follow the rules when it counted.

Apprehension spread within her while almost inaudible footsteps approaching. She braced herself for whatever he intended to throw at her...

...only to almost jump when he touched her shoulder.

 _How can his hand be so warm?_

This must be a stupid thing to think of but for the longest time, Haruno Sakura had always equaled Uchiha Shisui with a void, an abyss, a nothingness. Those things weren't supposed to possess warmth. Yet here he was, with no reprimand that she was so sure he would want to say out loud and a warm rough hand that was steadfast on its hold of her shoulder.

Her shaking subsided, however slight.

.

.

.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, finding it hard to believe what she had just heard.

"Shisui-kun requested you for his team." Minato-san easily repeated, his eyes crinkled. "Your performance must be very impressive for him to make that decision."

She doubted it. It had come as a surprise when her captain didn't say anything about her brief breakdown and her insistence on bringing Kazuya-san back, despite their rules dictating the opposite. While he might not chide her for her actions, there was nothing to suggest that he thought highly of what she did. Based on his reputation – and maybe a bit of her prejudice – she had a good guess of his opinion.

"What do you think, Sakura-chan? You still have the right to refuse. I know Naruto can be quite a pain," there was mirth in Minato-san's voice, "when it comes to Team Seven members being part of other teams."

Well, that's true. Naruto was very adamant about Team Seven sticking together. Generally, she only reacted with affectionate exasperation; troublesome and frustrating her boys were, they were her best friends, her second family. But, sometimes, she did want more. She wanted to expand her horizon, to see what she was capable of beyond being a nice fitting piece to Team Seven. In spite of her wariness towards a certain Uchiha, she was elated for being chosen, even if just temporary, to be in one of the most accomplished teams in Konoha. Yes, the missions were hard but Haruno Sakura never backed out from a challenge and a chance to come out of her comfort zone. She wouldn't mind extending her stay in that team.

(Somewhere at the back of her mind, though, remembered the phantom warmth on her shoulder.)

"It's okay, Minato-san. Naruto is nothing I can't handle." She grinned. "I accept."

Minato-san laughed. "That's Sakura-chan for you. I guess I'll have to endure my son whining for the time being then."

"But," he laced his fingers together and put them under his chin, "I have to say while unexpected this is certainly a good thing. Watch over Shisui-kun and report to me if problems occur, will you?"

His eyes were now forming slits that you could no longer see their clear blue color and his thin lips were stretching into a pleasant smile. The implication of his words wasn't lost on anyone. Sakura knew, without a doubt, that 'Minato-san' – the soft-spoken man she had known since childhood, who bought her sweetened apple candy at festivals – had just been replaced by 'Hokage-sama', whose hand when he put it through the enemy's chest was as firm as when he held little Naruto and led him through the crowd.

She returned his smile with one of her own, "I understand."

Then she bowed deeply and left the room.

This was what a shinobi came down to.

.

.

.

Being in her captain's team was almost a blessing.

As expected, the team training was now part of her schedule. They usually met several times a week; sometimes all members were present, other times there were specific individuals focusing on specific exercises. And Sakura was wrong before. Watching Uchiha Shisui fight wasn't a privilege; watching him spar, was. In real-life combat one didn't have time to admire and feel the full extent of a strike until it hit the opponent, or them, a bit too hard. But when there was no life-or-death situation, no urgency to make quick – and at times, wrong – decisions, she could sit at a vantage point and appreciate the gracefulness that was her captain.

At the moment, she was observing with bated breath the taijutsu match between him and another teammate – Tatsuya, sandy hair, upright face with an attitude to match. Tatsuya-san's arm shot out at Uchiha-taichou's throat, only for him to slip to the side and simultaneously catch his opponent's wrist. A deft kick to the legs and her teammate lay flat on the ground with a tantou blade drawing drops of blood from his thick neck and a captain looking down impassively. All that seemed to happen in a single movement, a blink of the eyes, a split second.

Sakura released the breath she had been holding; she had sat like a statue in fear of missing anything crucial from the fight. There was an emotion resonated deep within her that felt like admiration. Because she recognized the sound of his smooth moves. Because she remembered the million times she listened to it while watching Lee-san, a boy with a funny haircut and an even funnier outfit, effortlessly do swift swinging of the arms and noiseless footsteps on the ground as if he was just breathing.

 _Ah_ , she thought, _that is the sound of endless practice._

Inborn talent and heritage was no doubt an advantage but it could only get you so far. People reached the top by sweating and bleeding; no one stood above everyone without a sacrifice in some shape or form. Wasn't this one of the reasons that made little Sakura love Sasuke-kun, the Uchiha clan head's second son, the one grew up in praises, the one spent extra hours to perfect a simple jutsu?

Sakura was still wary of Uchiha-taichou but _this_ , this dedication, was something she would not deny.

She didn't know what prompted him to choose her but no matter the reason, she wouldn't make a person she admired – albeit reluctantly – disappointed. That's the mindset she had when it's her turn to spar with Tatsuya-san. She poured into this match the concentration she displayed in surgeries; the highest form of deadly accuracy, leaving no room for mistakes. Part of her also felt exhilarating to fight someone she wasn't accustomed to. As powerful and cheeky Naruto and Sasuke-kun were in combat, Team Seven members knew each other so well that they often predicted more or less correctly what the others had up their sleeves. It somewhat defeated one of the purposes of training which was preparation for real combat against enemy, most of whom weren't even your acquaintances to begin with.

(She didn't want to think otherwise.)

At the end of their match, with her trying to balance her breath and Tatsuya-san leaning on the only tree that survived her vicious attacks, she couldn't help but feel proud. After her apprenticeship under Tsunade-shishou, she was no longer the little girl whose teammates jumped in front of her to protect her from the scary, scary world. Since then she began a streak of having more wins and draws than losses. Yet that particular detail of her past – the helpless twelve year old – claimed a small but permanent place inside her, making every achievement feel like milestone and proof of the long way she had walked on.

The feeling of satisfaction, however, was short-lived because she was never one to bath too long in the afterglow of victory. Her posture tensed once more as her eyes critically assessed the training ground and her mind relived the match to find any mistake she might have overlooked. So focused in her task she was that she completely forgot her captain's presence. It's only when he came near that she was alerted, jumping a little in surprise.

Her eyes darted to him then quickly turned back to Tatsuya-san. Damn it, she truly felt like the twelve-year-old girl looking back at her master for approval after healing a fish.

"Well done, Haruno-san."

Sakura jerked her head so fast that the musculature of her neck hurt, but she thought it's her ears that needed to be checked. Uchiha-taichou – the shinobi who never harshly reprimanded his subordinates but neither did he ever praise them individually – just gave her a compliment. She spent several moments being awestruck till she realized she hadn't heard wrongly. A bubbly happiness bloomed inside her that might make her a little delirious because after years spent on avoiding the eyes of the man standing beside her, she found herself meeting his dark depths.

Maybe it's the trick of the light, or the angle, but his eyes didn't look so much like an endless abyss anymore.

They were like simmering charcoal, waiting to be set ablaze.

.

.

.

 _Somebody needs to be more discreet in his staring._

Sakura glanced sideways at one Uchiha captain, who was staring rather unapologetically at her talking to Tatsuya-san about poisons. Their eyes locked but he gave no indication of someone being caught staring. His eyes – the light from their campfire made it look like there were tiny flames dancing in them – kept looking at her with an intensity that was familiar in other Uchiha but not this particular one.

Ever since she officially joined his team, the man confused her more than unsettled her. One moment he was the Uchiha that she had always been wary of – familiar with – and the next he became someone so alien; the warm hand on her shoulder, the unusual compliment, and all those stares that he really needed to be more subtle about. She honestly didn't know what to make of it, because she spent a better part of her childhood tip-toeing around him.

Maybe he was not the only one that never truly looked at people.

So she took it upon herself to unabashedly watch him while it's her turn to guard and everyone was sleeping – she still had tact, really. Her captain was leaning against a tree, his arms crossed, his head inclined downwards a little, and his breath in a steady rhythm. He looked almost relaxed.

 _Almost._

(A few weeks ago, their team also had to rest at night in a forest. His shift was after hers so she thought it's only proper for her to wake him up. Her arm reached out, intending to gently tap on his shoulder. Faster than she could blink she was lying flat on the ground, broken tree branches poking at her back. Her wrist was caught in a painful twist and her captain's face hovered above hers. His eyes weren't fully opened, they had the dazed look of someone who had yet regained consciousness.

They also looked so tired.

"Haruno-san?" he mumbled as he slowly let go of her bruised wrist. "Sorry, it seems that I…overslept."

Then he got off of her and took his shift like nothing happened. She was later told by Tatsuya-san that it's a normal occurrence. Tatsuya-san had said, with no short amount of admiration, their captain was a true shinobi, always on high alert and never dropping his guard.

 _Even among comrades?_

She wanted to ask but the words stayed with her.)

Looking at her sleeping captain, she remembered all the times he insisted on going last and letting his clone lead their formation. She, and the team, always thought he wanted to watch their backs as per a captain's duty. But, perhaps, he just didn't want them to watch _his_ back.

There was something heartbreaking about it.

Her eyes moved from his tightly crossed arms to the dark skin area below his eyes. His bags weren't too terrible but they are considerably visible. She wasn't sure if they had just appeared recently or they had always been there.

 _Either way_ , she decided, _it's time for a check-up_.

.

.

.

At fifteen to eight, Sakura was done reading the medical record of her captain. Now she understood why he was considered the hospital's darling. No missed session, following doctors' instruction to a T, polite and nice according to the extra giddy notes of some nurses. Uchiha Shisui, no matter what he did, seemed to walk straight out of a textbook.

 _If so then who wrote the book and created his character?_

She didn't know why she suddenly had such a funny thought. It was cut short, though, when the door opened. Eight o'clock sharp, Uchiha-taichou walked in.

Sakura instantly straightened herself and her lips curved into a professional smile.

"Good morning, Taichou."

He blinked, clearly not expecting her; but he didn't say anything and simply sat on the examination table like she told him to. She then instructed him to strip down to his boxer. He did so, his sinewy muscles rippled with every movement. Sakura stepped closer to the table to stand between his legs, mindful to keep a small distance. Her hands were covered in a green glow and she started her assessment.

Uchiha Shisui was one tall man with his build leaned more on the bulky side but not too much. His shoulders were broader than her teammates, or even Kakashi-sensei, yet he still retained a lean image overall. Unlike many shinobi that was littered with scars, he had so few of them. The scars he did have, though, were deep and ghastly – the opponent must be _dangerously good_ to cause Uchiha Shisui wounds like that. While she kept her hands several centimeters above wherever she was checking, from time to time they would graze briefly against his slightly tanned skin. The feeling under the tips of her fingers informed her that this body was diamond in the guise of flesh.

The body of someone who had practiced the ninja art since he was barely aware of his surroundings.

Her hands moved up to his face, her eyes following them only to find a pair of charcoal eyes staring right back at hers. The green glow flickered before she quickly regained her control. The man didn't seem to notice her momentary slip, he kept looking at her as if in a trance. She didn't know how to feel about it so she chose to ignore him and focused on the task at hand. Somewhere in the back of her mind vaguely realized this was the first time she'd seen him up close. Her glowing hands slid over sharp jawlines, well-defined lips, a straight but somewhat broad nose, then they stopped at his eyes. Every time she inserted her chakra into them, his eyelashes – longer than a man's eyelashes had the right to be – fluttered, temporarily hiding the dark depths that seemed to pull people in if they looked for too long.

At the end of her assessment, Sakura had to hastily move herself away from Uchiha Shisui. She took several seconds to calm her heart. After a few quiet inhales and exhales, her composure came back. She proceeded to note down on her clipboard what she had found, which was practically nothing. Her captain was in perfect health. That meant his state of unrest was most likely caused by his mind more than anything else.

She had a pretty good guess what it was but decided to ask for the sake of conversation anyway.

"You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

Her captain didn't reply right away. It took a moment for his lips to stretch into his customary smile and he answered.

"Surely I'm not that obvious?"

Sakura resisted the urge to raise her brows high up her big forehead at his light tone. A great shinobi Uchiha Shisui was, he wasn't the first to use the change in tone to divert attention. She had seen many shinobi as well as civilians favor this tactic. Besides, she wasn't Hatake Kakashi's student for nothing. Her captain got nothing on her old teacher in this department. Still, if she was right about his reason then he wouldn't divulge further information to her.

So she played along with him.

"Ah Taichou, the first lesson we learn as medics is to see what the patients don't show or talk about. But," she smirked, "if _it_ helps you to sleep better at night, then I have to say you're one of the best at pretending you're fine."

To her surprise, he laughed. It was low and short but undoubtedly relaxed and more genuine than any of his perpetual smiles. For a split second, her heart leapt at the unexpected sound. Sakura mentally shook her head – now was not the time to be charmed.

She moved to her desk. "Still, we'll have to do something about your problem."

She shuffled the drawers for a while before pulling out a small transparent bottle with little red pills inside it.

"This is something I make." Pride swelled in her chest, "It eases your tenseness and makes sleep come easier but unlike soporific drugs, it doesn't increase drowsiness so that you aren't able to react appropriately to any possible threat."

She presented the bottle for her captain and, like any other time she had the chance to introduce her much loved creations, she eagerly added, "Besides, I even make it sweet."

Uchiha-taichou responded with silence. As the clock ticked by, she was increasingly embarrassed, wondering if she was a bit too much in her excitement. She tried to save face with a sheepish, "You don't like sweets, Taichou?"

Her captain really didn't help with his continuing silence. But when she chanced a glance at him, she was struck by how blank he looked. Like he couldn't comprehend what she'd asked. Like he didn't know how to answer her.

 _Has anyone ever asked him what he likes?_

This was Uchiha Shisui – the man who recited the shinobi rules like he religiously chanted them every day, who could provide insightful replies to any jutsu-related questions, who was one of the sharpest individuals she'd ever met. Yet he wasn't able to say if he liked sweets or not.

Her heart squeezed painfully.

Sakura's gaze softened, her voice was gentle when she spoke again. "You can try it, Taichou. And if it's not up to your taste," a sincere grin that she never showed the man in front of her made its way to her lips, "I'm sure I can make something specifically for you."

After she said her offer, Uchiha-taichou slowly redressed himself and walked towards her. He took the bottle from her hand, his fingers fleetingly brushed against hers, and he smiled. It wasn't his usual big, pleasant smile. It was small – just a faint upwards curve of the mouth – but it's there.

"Haruno-san, thank you."

.

.

.

That night, the lingering warmth on her fingers and memory of a half-smile kept her awake till the first sunlight danced through her window.

.

.

.

She didn't expect anyone when she went to Hokage Mountain so her eyes understandably widened at the sight of her captain casually eating his lunch while looking ahead. She debated whether she should approach him or not. He obviously wanted to enjoy his meal in peace if his choice of place was any indication. At the same time, though, when she looked at him from afar like this, he seemed to turn into a black dot being swallowed by the grand scenery around him.

He looked very small and very lonely.

Now that she thought of it, she rarely saw him with anyone in a personal setting. There were many people who looked up to him but there was almost no one he enjoyed little pleasures in life with; strolling around the village, chatting in a teashop, or simply watching life went by from a rooftop. Itachi-san might be the closest thing to a friend for him but the atmosphere between them always had a muted serious undertone that it couldn't be comfortable for both of them. Furthermore Sasuke-kun loved to hog his older brother's attention so they probably didn't spend much time together anyway.

She wondered what Uchiha-taichou did, and felt, in the absence of people.

Before she could have second thought, her feet brought her to him as she voiced her greeting.

"You're eating lunch here too, Taichou?"

He turned to her just as she sat down away from him, trying not to invade his personal space.

"Ah yes, I often bring my lunch here. It has nice view."

 _You were looking rather hard at your 'nice view'_ , Sakura thought but didn't say. Instead she let a comfortable silence envelop them while they were eating their respective lunch. After a while, surprisingly, it's Uchiha-taichou who broke the silence.

"Did you put plum in your sleeping pill, Haruno-san?"

She instantly looked up and saw him glancing down at her half-eaten umeboshi. Her visage shone. He did use it! And it's not every day that someone recognized her secret recipe!

"You noticed, Taichou?"

He nodded. "The taste is faint but I'm quite sure it is plum."

She hummed her confirmation, "Yes, it is. It's a great fruit, you know."

"Do you like plum?"

"One of my favorite foods is umeboshi but I like plum in general." She replied while using her chopsticks to play with the umeboshi in her bento, "Great savor and tons of health benefits. I try to add it in many things."

Then she couldn't help but smile widely, "Besides, some people say plum tree symbolizes happiness and good fortune and who wouldn't want that from time to time?"

There it was. On Uchiha-taichou's face was the half-smile that made her stay awake through the night some weeks ago, that did funny things to her heart now.

"Indeed."

After that they returned to eating in silence – Sakura was in dire need of it to calm her silly heart. Then she realized something out of the blue: her captain had chosen to sit on Nidaime-sama's stony head. Usually people didn't pay much attention to the Grumpy White Furry Ball – dubbed by her much respected master. This piqued her curiosity.

"Taichou, is Nidaime-sama your favorite Hokage?" she tentatively asked.

"What makes you think so?" His tone suggested that she was being very random.

Sakura subconsciously scratched the back of her head.

"Oh, you chose to sit on his head. Normally when people come here, they pick their favorite Hokage or the one they think was the coolest." _And to most people, Nidaime-sama is just another name in history_. She frowned at her own thought. "And I don't see people favor Nidaime-sama that often so I'm a bit curious."

"He was a formidable shinobi. My parents admired him."

His response was almost immediate and sounded more personal than it should, given how he didn't really answer her question. But, Sakura felt this was his 'personal space', one she didn't have the right to step into. So like before she accepted his reply as it was with a nod of her head.

"What about you? Do you admire him?" Of course he would return her curiosity.

She deliberated over his question. In her mind, the isolated Uchiha compound appeared; a reminder of how someone she once admired had disappointed her. Nevertheless, one of his decisions allowed her a chance to stand where she was. And she would always thank him for that.

She carefully said, "Rather than admire, I would say I'm grateful to him."

"Grateful?" There was an edge in Uchiha-taichou's voice that she couldn't name.

"Yes," she honestly affirmed. "Do you know that when our village had just been founded, the Academy only opened to clans' children? However, Nidaime-sama reformed the education system and allowed children from civilian families to enroll."

She smiled, thinking of how her younger self used to sigh in relief every now and then while mentally thanking the Hokage for his decision. "If it's not for his policy, I wouldn't be able to become a shinobi."

"Why did you want to become a shinobi?"

Uchiha-taichou's unexpected question pulled her out of her reminiscence. Her mouth slightly opened due to the suddenness of it, and truly, it mortified her. Sakura's face burnt at the prospect of telling him. She didn't feel shame but the reason was definitely…embarrassing. She considered coming up with some grandiose motivations like making the world a better place or becoming the strongest shinobi ever. However, her captain's expression was serious and intense like her answer somehow was important to him. That's why she swallowed her embarrassment and revealed the truth in the smallest voice possible.

"When I was eight, I saw Sasuke-kun and Itachi-san practice by chance. Their movements were beautiful it enchanted me so much that I rushed home and told my parents I wanted to be a ninja."

"And your parents didn't object to it?"

Sakura's face heated up even more, remembering how she threw a tantrum by locking herself in her room until her parents had to concede defeat. "I can be quite…stubborn when I want to."

She didn't dare to look at her captain because she's sure her face was now the shade of Sasuke-kun's favorite tomato. When she peeked up at him, though, she saw no trace of someone trying to contain their laughter for politesse's sake. Just the face of someone who was expressing their honest admiration – made her question his definition of admirable – with vague hints of fondness. Her treacherous heart quickened again and she found the need to say something to distract herself.

"Anyway," she coughed, "in hindsight, someone as pragmatic as Nidaime-sama probably did that because he wanted to expand the ninja population."

She once gushed to Tsunade-shishou about how very encouraging her granduncle had been, allowing civilian kids like her a chance at greatness. Her master gave her an utterly unimpressed face and she looked like she was debating whether to deal a fatal blow or not. In the end, Tsunade-shishou was never one to shy away from being blunt and told her exactly what she just told Uchiha-taichou.

Sakura remembered being completely crestfallen. She recalled how after entering the ninja world for a childish and naïve reason, she realized she was at a disadvantage compared to her peers that came from the clans. How she wasn't prepared but those kids had been storing ninja tricks up their sleeve since they could walk. How she became frustrated, upset, and disappointed with herself. Then the thing that initially kept her going turned out to be an innocent misbelief as proven by Tsunade-shishou. _But._ It also made her tears stop falling in those nights when the sadness was too much to contain within her tiny body. And it's still one of the reasons why she's now able to smile fondly at her memories.

"But, at the beginning, it's nice to think that a great shinobi like him saw potential in normal kids like me."

In all honesty, she no longer harbored the deep insecurity and inferiority complex she once had. Her words were simply nostalgia of a once upon a time childhood, not an ounce of bitterness in them. It took her completely by surprise when Uchiha-taichou spoke, voice strong and full of conviction like he dared her to contradict him.

"Either way, I'd say Nidaime-sama reached his goal. Two third of our village citizens are shinobi and we have you as a combat-medical ninja on par with Tsunade-hime."

His burning charcoal eyes – unwavering and relentless – told her that he wasn't humoring her. This was a truth he absolutely believed in. It astonished – _overwhelmed_ – her so much that her lips slowly bloomed into the biggest smile, unrestrained in its radiance.

If it's not for the sudden strong gush of wind that had Sakura secure her bento in a hurry, she's afraid her mouth would be aching from smiling for a long while. But when she turned back to him, her lips threatened to twitch into another wide smile. She had to smooth down her hair in an attempt to distract her from showing her utmost happiness, lest her captain thought she was too weird.

From the corners of her eyes, she saw him scoot closer, his hand reaching for something on her head.

"Haruno-san, you missed this."

The fleeting brush of calloused fingertips created an almost feverish trail on her hair. But she wasn't startled.

This time, she let herself bask in its warmth.

.

.

.

"By the way, Taichou, you can call me Sakura. 'Haruno-san' is too stiff."

A pause. "I see, Sakura-san. Then please call me Shisui."

A smile. "Okay, Shisui-san."

.

.

.

He was not a perfect void, she thought. Instead, Shisui-san was:

Confident. He never bragged about his combat prowess but that didn't mean he wasn't aware of how _good_ he was. There was this one time they were observing their targets from afar and discussing the course of actions. She warned him about their abilities, which could possibly counter his own. Shisui-san put his chin on his palm, fingers lightly tapping against it. With a half-smirk and a slight incline of the head, he said, "Will they, now?" Sakura amusedly shook her head in resignation. _Infuriating Uchiha men_.

Determined. He might or might not originally want to do something but once he decided he would do it then there's no stopping him. This was a principle he applied to everything, be it being a shinobi, a captain, or a major pain in the behind. On days when Sakura thought it's a wonderful idea to work consecutive shifts, Shisui-san would likely to be around to make sure she had proper rest despite her telling him she could take care of herself. "I insist." was all he said before he continued to stare at her until she conceded and took a quick nap under his watchful eyes.

Ridiculous. "On the scale from one to ten, how much pain does this injury cause you?" "It's not unbearable." "I didn't ask if you could endure it, I asked how much it's hurt." "…" "Alright, that's an eight then."

Shackled. It's ironic to see how Shisui-san and Naruto both possessed wind element yet the silly blond was so free – he yelled, he cried, he laughed whenever he wanted – and her captain wasn't. There seemed to be a set of rules for him to follow all the time – kept people at arm's length, kept hiding yourself, kept smiling. Maybe this was why he admired the foolish little girl that became a ninja on a whim or why his eyes were full of longing while watching birds spread their wings on the big blue sky.

Oblivious. Sakura had long forgotten the angst about her forehead but old habits died hard. Every time she needed to dress up as an eye candy for information gathering missions, she would subconsciously spend a longer time to look at her forehead. Shisui-san once asked her about it and she laughingly answered it's because she had a billboard brow. He then stepped closer to her, their faces mere centimeters away and his eyebrows knitting in confusion. "Oh, I never noticed." After that he was even more puzzled as to why she refused to look at or talk to him. All those unabashed stares from before was one thing, _this_ was on a whole different level. The man just had no idea he was greatly capable of causing havoc on a young girl's tender heart.

Dorky. "What are you doing, Shisui-san?" The hand holding the brush paused, its owner raised his eyebrows and his voice was bland like he's not sure why she's asking the obvious. "I'm grooming her." "Yes, I can see that but does she _need_ it?" Shisui-san turned back to his summon, hand lightly petting her head. "She _loves_ it." The golden eagle looked like she badly wanted to gouge out his precious eyes but didn't, out of sheer loyalty. She wouldn't tell him that, though, for his eyes were gleaming with affection and rare happiness.

Tender. Her hands had seen to the death of many people, enemies and patients alike. The pungent coppery scent got stronger each time they were soaked with the crimson liquid. In those times, if he was near, Shisui-san never offered words of consolation. He took her hands and meticulously washed them until they're clean again. Sakura thought they hadn't been clean since the day of her first kill but with him sitting close next to her in tranquil silence – their shoulders a hair's breadth away – she could pretend they were.

Detached. He was often in a strange mood when talked about his parents. The smile he offered her while saying there's nothing much to tell since they passed away when he was six, resembled his trademark pleasant smile that nowadays was lesser in appearance. It didn't look like hatred, neither did it look like love. He always changed the topic after that. Sakura didn't know how to get through this part of him but she wouldn't push when he wasn't ready.

Kind. When people wasn't looking. On one occasion when their team was travelling back from a mission, they saw two kids playing by the lakeside. The younger one was crying loudly since their paper boat couldn't sail. Her other teammates chuckled before shaking their heads and kept on walking. Next to her, Shisui-san's steps didn't change their pace while the hand at his side made swift and discreet hand seals, sending a gentle breeze towards the children. He didn't stop but his lips tipped into a faint smile at their overjoyed shout.

And warm. Shisui-san could argue all day that everything he did was duty but Sakura didn't believe him one bit. The deep gash he received while shielding their teammate from a surprise attack, the all-nighters he pulled to watch over his subordinates even after they're declared stable enough, the firm hand on a comrade's back when they needed extra encouragement; it's all _him_ and not black and white lines on a textbook. Shisui-san kept a distance from everyone yet – like any Uchiha, a child of fire – burnt himself to keep them warm.

(By the seventh month since she joined, Sakura sometimes quietly laughed at her past blindness.

 _This man, full of imperfections, can barely keep his shinobi form._ )

.

.

.

"So," Ino drawled, "who is the lucky guy?"

"Huh?" Sakura absently asked, too unfocused to process what her best friend had just said.

Ino rolled her pretty eyes. "You have the same stupid look as when you used to daydream about Sasuke. Except it's more stupid now. There must be someone unless you're about to confess your undying love to a cactus."

Sakura looked down to the cactus pot in her hand. Her mind was indeed preoccupied but largely because of what she knew – thanks to her close position to the Hokage and Tsunade-shishou – was going to happen to their village if there was one wrong move from either or both parties involved.

At her silence, the blonde pressed, "There is someone, right?"

 _But_ , she wouldn't deny that her anxiety over the village's future was intertwined with feelings for a certain man.

Sakura touched the lone flower on the cactus' thorny body, her fingers gently tracing its soft petals. This small red flower blooming on a tough body hid the meaning of grandeur, endurance, ardent love, and _warmth_.

She smiled, "Yes, there is."

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 _This weather is terrible._

Sakura mused as she channeled chakra to her hands and squeezed the soaked cloaks dry. Though she supposed it's still better than the snow storm they experienced in their last mission and she wasn't particularly bothered by the heavy rain. While it hindered the team's travel it didn't hamper her strength in any considerable way.

She couldn't say the same for her companion.

Sakura glanced at Shisui-san, who was putting tree branches in a heap at the center of the cave that they took shelter in. Like most Uchiha – with the exception of Sasuke-kun, whose techniques thrived in this kind of weather – he must not be thrilled by the prospect of being surrounded by water.

And the rain seemed to put a dent in his mood for more reasons than one.

After hanging their cloaks, she sat down next to the heap. She was starting to get cold, her skin getting goosebumps all over. She muttered as she rubbed her arms, "It's really cold in here."

Shisui-san quickly finished arranging the wood then blew fire over it once he was done with his hand seals. The cave was instantly lit by a yellowish orange glow and filled with moderate heat.

"Good thing I'm a katon user then," he said as he settled down next to her. "I can keep us warm."

She laughed aloud at that. _You have no idea_.

Then she turned to him, green light covering her hands, and said, "I think I will check your eyes now."

Shisui-san nodded without hesitation and let Sakura do her job. He wasn't this compliant in the beginning but now it had become the norm between them. She had firmly expressed her worry over his increasing use of his bloodline limit and convinced him to let her do a quick check after each mission.

Her chakra gently seeped into his ocular system, soothing any damage she might find. She was satisfied that the man, while could be absurd at times, always listened to reasonable advices. He had taken careful measures as to not overuse his eyes.

(He did have good reasons to maintain them at their best condition anyway.)

Finally she retracted her hands and notified him, pleased. "I have eased your eye strain, but other than that, there's nothing to worry about now."

"That's good to hear."

"I was worried about the damage being more serious."

"But thanks to you, it won't come to that," he sincerely said with a small smile.

She smiled back at him, "Well, you should also thank yourself since I can see that you do take good care of your eyes, despite all those jobs you receive from both the Military Police Force and Yondaime-sama."

There was a shift in his expression then, as quick as it came, it passed. His voice was light when he replied, "Ah, lately I have not been participating much in the Police Force activities. It's my regret that I can't contribute more as a member of the Uchiha clan."

"However," he continued, eyes turning away from her and staring at the fire, "these missions that take most of my time help our village so I suppose it's worth it."

There they were. Words from a textbook, showing nothing how he actually felt. But she wondered if he did feel anything at all because he said them with such ease, like they're natural and he had been saying them since he was capable of speech. Like he didn't know anything else aside from those practiced lines.

She must be quiet for a tad too long since he eventually turned to look at her. It's strange to see his usual curly hair straighten, making him somehow resemble Itachi-san. But the look in his eyes was familiar; she remembered seeing it at the examination room several months ago. The look of someone lost.

"When I was a kid," Sakura started without prompting, "when I still called you 'Uchiha-san', I often saw you around the village, dressed in your police uniform."

Shisui-san made no move to demand explanation for her randomness. Instead, he listened intently like he always did.

"In my eyes at that time, Uchiha-san the Police was," _soulless, empty_ "…scary. Even then, I could see how much dedication you put into your duty, how much you tried to live up to your clan's standards."

Outside, the thunder boomed and the rain howled more viciously. Their campfire flickered as the wind got stronger so Sakura put more wood into it before she continued.

"Ever since I joined your team, you're not so scary anymore," she chuckled, remembering all the times she was confused, annoyed, fluttered around him. "Yet I think I can still see the same Uchiha-san in my Taichou, working restlessly for others and putting them before him."

"I can't help but wonder one thing, though. 'Uchiha-san' devotes himself to his clan and 'Taichou' places the village above all. But then,"

Now she fully turned to him, clear green eyes unflinchingly looking at his black ones.

"What does Shisui-san want?"

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.

.

What Shisui-san didn't know when he stepped into the darkness outside of their cave, was that Sakura was very much awake. Throughout the night, she watched his back as he stood still under the violent rain.

She heard a silence that sounded like screams.

.

.

.

"It's really peaceful without the moron."

"You're being mean," Sakura giggled.

Sasuke-kun snorted.

They were sitting in the shade of a big tree that overlooked a vast flower field. Team Seven found this spot when they were on the mission looking for the poor cat of a noble lady. Since then this had become their favorite spot to relax, to temporarily forget their duty.

"So," Sasuke-kun said, "the Hokage sent him away, huh?"

"Yeah," she confirmed.

Two weeks ago she had said goodbye to an exuberant Naruto before he went on an ambassador mission to Suna that supposedly would last for two months with Kakashi-sensei and a few other Anbu. He was very excited, whispering to her how he couldn't wait to meet up with Gaara. She had teasingly chided him that he wasn't going there to play around. And he wasn't. He was going there to take refugee if things turned from worse to worst. But she didn't say that when she hugged him and wished him good luck with his mission.

She supposed the Hokage's decision made sense. If one of the worst outcomes became reality, letting a tailed beast stay near people in possession of the ability to control it wouldn't be wise. Not to mention while brilliant, her friend could get incredibly reckless if the matters were too close to home. She couldn't imagine how he would react when his sharp instinct finally caught on what was happening between the village and his best friend's clan. Naruto was too much of a wild card to risk him here in Konoha. Although she doubted those were the real reason behind their leader's choice. Part of it, yes, but his concern perhaps lay in the blond's safety more than anything else.

In the end, Minato-san was still a father.

Sasuke-kun must have thought something along the same lines when he smirked, "I guess even the Hokage is incapable of turning his back to his family."

"But," he sat straighter, all traces of humor gone from his voice, "I can understand."

Now he was looking at her, his beautiful obsidian eyes unrelenting and unapologetic. He left _I would do the same_ unsaid. He didn't need to because those eyes of his always told her what was important. He was telling her what his stand was without an ounce of dishonesty. However, Sasuke-kun wasn't asking for understanding or even acceptance. When he announced his intention, he was fully prepared he would receive none. What he wanted to know was far less complicated.

 _Will we still be friends, after everything?_

Her lips quirked up. _Silly, silly Sasuke-kun_.

Sakura stood up, hands smoothing out the wrinkles on her skirt. She walked forwards for several steps before turning back to her friend.

"What are you sitting there for?" She grinned from ear to ear, hands on her hips, "Didn't you say you would treat me to the new dango shop?"

Something like relief, like happiness, passed over Sasuke-kun's features. Wasting no time, he stood up and fell into step with her. "Yes, yes, you gold digger."

She laughed and while he didn't, Sasuke-kun's smirk was gentler. They walked side by side, bargaining back and forth how much she could actually eat because his wallet had limit unlike her stomach.

Looking at him from the corners of her eyes, it amazed Sakura how she never saw the resemblance between Shisui-san and him. If Sasuke-kun had curly hair – an image that made her mentally snicker – and if he buffed up a little, he could look exactly like Shisui-san in passing.

 _Ah, I see._

For children of the clans, there were things owed to their family before to anything else: a distinct appearance that was as good as a crest, a special power blessed since birth, a bond lasting through generations. It had always been her parents and Sakura so she couldn't quite understand the string that connected – that _bound_ – members of a clan for many years to pass and many years to come. However, it's precisely thanks to her upbringing that she understood the significance of _choice_.

No matter what Shisui-san's answer to her question was, she would look at him in the eyes and accept it.

.

.

.

The past hours had been torture, waiting in the hospital for the outcome – _casualties_ , her master had said. Just when she thought she would lose her sanity with all the idling, Tsunade-shishou opened the door with a loud bang. For once in her life the hardened woman actually looked relieved and Sakura knew the coup d'état had ended in peace, or at least relatively so. With a nod from her master, Sakura sprinted out of the room.

She found Sasuke-kun first, who was walking on the street with Itachi-san. She didn't hesitate to leap forwards and hugged him so tightly that normally he would whine she was killing him but this time he let her. When her emotions came down from its high she realized Shisui-san wasn't with them and this information nearly threw her into a panic attack.

Catching her frantic gaze, Itachi-san slowly looked to the direction of Hokage Mountain and nodded. She didn't ask how he knew – Itachi-san always had the tendency to know everything while revealing nothing – she squeezed the life out of Sasuke-kun for one last time before she jumped on the closest roof towards her desired destination.

That's how she found herself watching Shisui-san's lonely back under the roaring downpour. He must have sensed her presence even before she reached Nidaime-sama's stony head but he kept sitting still, seemingly ignoring everything around him. Sakura decided she would take the first step.

"You will catch a terrible cold."

There was a pause, then he replied, "I could say the same about you, Sakura-san. It's best that you go home, I can't keep us warm in weather like this."

With that one sentence she knew he wanted her to leave him be yet at the same time, didn't. His response was spoken so softly – barely a whisper – among the loud drumming of the rain like he didn't wish for anyone to hear.

 _No one truly wants to be alone when they're suffering._

So Sakura approached him – slowly but surely – breaking his barrier and stepping into his personal space. She sat down behind him, her back touching his. With practiced hand seals the thick icy sheet of water split under her command, leaving two small people untouched.

Her dainty hand shyly found his larger one and she gently said, "Good thing I'm a suiton user then, I can shield us from the rain."

Shisui-san remained still but he didn't retract his hand. A few heartbeats later he leaned back, his back pressing more firmly against hers. Sakura held his cold, wet hand harder. An unspoken promise.

 _I will keep you warm._

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.

.

She was running around her kitchen like a headless chicken.

Sakura fumbled through her beloved jars, taking all the ingredients she needed to make the most superb dessert. She was pouring her plum syrup to the jelly when light footsteps made their way towards her. After adding the final touch, she handed the bowl to Shisui-san.

"My killer plum syrup lemon jelly! With blueberry topping!" she proudly chirped. "The best treat you could have before resting for the day!"

"I see that your promotion campaign is still going strong," he chuckled.

She grinned widely, the corners of her lips must have reached her ears. "People literally kill for this, you know."

He smiled, "I don't doubt that."

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent in companionable silence. Sakura took her time to marvel at the situation. Years ago, even months ago, she wouldn't dream of having Shisui-san anywhere near her, too busy thinking he was some sort of a hollow being. Yet right now he was sitting in front of her and enjoying the jelly she made in the middle of the night. Part of her flushed at the thought of him staying overnight at her house. A larger part was delighted because of how content he looked at the moment.

Surprisingly, it was Shisui-san who spoke first, pulling Sakura out of her reverie.

"Sakura-san," he started slowly, his gaze intense, "do you think you would have been happier had you listened to your parents and didn't become a shinobi?"

 _Ah._

This was his moment of uncertainty. Whatever he chose in the end didn't erase years of devotedly serving his clan or the invisible bond existed in the red tint of those dark eyes. Betraying your own kin would leave a bitter taste in any decent human being. Shisui-san was definitely more than just decent. Sakura wouldn't lie; she was glad he didn't side with his clan and offered his hands in stopping their conspiracy. The ruthless shinobi in her wanted to assure him that she made the right choice just as he also did. But the twelve-year-old girl, who cried upon Sasuke-kun's body on a misty bridge, thought that Shisui-san had enough of people directing him what he should be.

After all, Haruno Sakura wouldn't follow the rules when it counted – _especially_ when it counted.

"I don't know." She held his gaze as she admitted nothing less than the truth.

"You don't know..." Something in his eyes deflated, like he was truly expecting he would receive a resolution for all his pain from her. She would feel flattered if everything about this wasn't so sad.

"Yes," she nodded, "sometimes I do think about all the what-could-have-been. But at the end of the day, they are just that and never become the now. I will never know what they would have brought so I prefer to focus on the now."

"So what's about now? Are you happy with your choice?" This must be the closest to desperation she'd ever heard in his tone.

She thought back on all the times she cried in the dead of night – a dead patient, a fallen comrade, a mission that forced her to watch people being massacred for the greater good – with the blanket covering her trembling body from head to toes. She often fell asleep later to the wish of a non-existent tomorrow.

Her fist clenched as she said, "I would be lying if I said I always was. There were, and still are, times when I think it's better if I give up. Still, I'm truly glad that I chose to become a shinobi."

"Why?" asked Shisui-san.

Every time she concluded this was it for her, she wasn't cut out to be a shinobi, she remembered: Ino and Naruto's dazzling encouraging smile, Sasuke-kun's subtle ways of showing he cared, Kakashi-sensei's struggle with his past, Lee-san's determined face while training to exhaustion, Tsunade-shishou's scowl when she hid her sake, Chiyo-baasama's lesson of sacrifice. She remembered the absolute faith they put in her – the reverent belief that she was larger than she actually was. It's the thought of them that pulled her out of her bed to start every morning anew.

All the pain she went through was worth it, having these wonderful people in her life, and she told Shisui-san just as much.

Then her cheeks dimpled and she thought of a confident, determined, ridiculous, shackled, oblivious, dorky, tender, detached, kind, and warm – _so very, very warm_ – man, whom she never expected to have her heart.

"And you too, Shisui-san." She said, letting the man know how grateful she was for meeting, and _knowing_ , him.

Shisui-san didn't respond but his tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit so she took the initiative and gently asked, "What about you, Shisui-san? Are you happy?"

There was just the distant sound of the rain between them for a long while before Shisui-san opened his mouth, giving her the answer in a low, soft, but _sincere_ voice.

"Yes, I am truly happy."

.

.

.

The next morning Sakura woke up early for work. She prepared a quick breakfast for Shisui-san and left a note next to it. On her way to the door, she passed by the man sleeping on her couch – Naruto completely trashed her spare room the last time he was there and she hadn't gotten around to clean it – and her feet stopped at the sight of him.

He was lying on his side, legs slightly bending because her couch was too short for him. There were dots of sunlight on his peaceful face. The hard edges that were often acquaintance with his face seemed to vanish overnight, leaving no trace of stress or sadness. She noticed some stray hair strands had fallen on his eyes. Out of reflex, she came close to gently brush them off. Shisui-san didn't stir, his chest rising and falling in an undisturbed rhythm. She smiled affectionately at him before heading out to the hospital.

Today was going to be a good day.

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.

Later that day when she was about to have lunch break, a nurse came looking for her and said there was someone waiting for her at her office.

She was surprised to see Shisui-san – well-rested, comfortable – sitting on her couch with a bag on his lap. He stood up when she entered the room.

"I apologize for going through your stuffs without permission," he started.

"But," he smiled, the half-smile of his that she loved, and held up the bag, "I thought it's a good idea to make lunch for us. Would you want to join me?"

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.

.

"Shisui-san, you made curry! And there is even yakitori!"

"You still haven't recognized all my secret recipe."

"Oh. _Onsen egg_!"

"That's my killer move."

.

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.

Life moved on after that.

Naruto came back much earlier than expected, an apologetic Kakashi-sensei in tow. The first thing he did was to engage Sasuke-kun in a not-so-friendly spar, which the dark-haired boy gladly returned. In the end, the two boys ended up with ugly bruises and cuts all over their bodies. They still tried to get at each other while Sakura was healing them, earning them both a smack on the head from her. But when Naruto was well enough to move, he embraced his two best friends in a bear hug, apologizing for not being there and making them promise there would be no secret of that magnitude in the future. They all went to Ichiraku after that.

Team Seven, with their connections to important individuals, wholeheartedly supported the Hokage in his endeavor of bridging the gap between the village and the Uchiha, or any clans for that matter. Sasuke-kun said it's a slow progress but still a progress nonetheless. At least both sides were willing to sit down and discuss instead of going to a battlefield. Sakura was also told that her captain had moved out of the Uchiha compound and found a new sadistic interest in annoying the hell out of his little cousin. Sasuke-kun gave her a very meaningful glare while muttering _'sexually frustrated jealous bastard',_ which Sakura cheerily ignored.

Life was treating her good.

She didn't remember who initiated but now they were just 'Shisui' and 'Sakura'. Their personal meetings were as many as professional ones and they kept learning new things about each other. To her great dismay, he wasn't much of a sweet-tooth like her – he fell somewhere between Sasuke-kun and Itachi-san – but to her greater horror, he was fond of spicy food – his tendency to cook curry should have tipped her off. They subtly engaged in a competition to see who would make the other reach enlightenment first. It resulted in them being regulars at every known sweet shops and curry restaurants in Konoha.

There were also less silly moments like those Sunday mornings, when she spent hours at his apartment to watch him taking care of his weapon collection and listen to him sharing information about it; or when he helped her at the greenhouse and carefully noted down each herb's name and their use. She particularly love evenings when he waited for her shift to end and they ate dinner at a nice restaurant, retelling each other of their day.

But what she loved the most was when they sat together on top of Nidaime-sama, sharing lunch and talking about nothing and everything.

Like what they were doing right now.

She was giddily revealing Naruto's latest prank on Kakashi-sensei, one she did enjoy and secretly cheered for the blond. In the middle of her wild hand motions and exciting story, Shisui tapped the corner of his mouth, telling her she had jam on hers and simultaneously teasing her about that. She huffed and whipped her head to the side, pointedly ignoring his laughter. She was no kid, really.

A few seconds later, there was the faint feeling of rough fingertips on her cheek then her head was gently turned towards Shisui. His thumb stroked the smear but instead of cleaning it, he helped it spread wider. He even had the guts to laugh again.

Sakura pouted but her heartbeat quickened when she saw his gaze move to her lips. In his deep charcoal eyes reflected something that looked like realization, like affection, like _her_. There was no uncertainty in the way his head dipped down – carefully, slowly, giving her a choice she didn't need but appreciated all the same – and brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth, lingering for moments of eternity.

Then he moved back, his hand still firm on her cheek, and looked at her. She was all red cheeks and racing heartbeats and _him_. He smiled – the full smile of a man who was free, and _happy_. From his mouth three little words were whispered not for the world but just for her to hear.

It's simply natural – _inevitable_ – when she held the warm hand on her cheek and laced their fingers together. Her eyes never left his while saying the answer her heart reserved only for him.

"So do I."

* * *

 **A/N:** I know Shisui's summon is crow in the manga (or at least I remember so) but I always associate Itachi with this particular animal. Furthermore, I like my headcanon of each Uchiha representing a kind of bird; hawk for Sasuke, crow for Itachi, and falcon for Madara (one of his hobbies is falconry). I looked for the list of fastest birds by flight speed and saw the golden eagle being second to the peregrine falcon. Of course I'd reserve the later for Madara so I chose the former as Shisui's summon.

Anyway, I'd like to say thank you to everyone who reviewed and put this story in their favorite and alert lists. You guys made this chapter happen for I seriously considered ending the story at chapter one. Because, well, the end of that chapter serves well enough as an overall closure and I doubt Sakura's answer can create suspense. No one thought she would say no, right xD? Plus, I was struggling with many things while writing the second chapter and it's only thanks to those who showed their support that I was able to pull through and finish it. So thank you again :D.

For readers that expressed their interest in my future ShisuiSaku fics, the answer is: I don't know. This story exhausted all my brain cells so I will take a break from writing first. It also depends on my love for this couple by the time I want to write again. Sadly, I'm as fickle as the autumn sky but never say never so we'll see.

Lastly, I hope you enjoy the chapter and _please please please_ leave a review if you do. Review always makes my day – just one or two words are enough :3.


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